All Bets On
by Foxtail-Padfoot
Summary: This began as a Tony/Tim friendship, but it kinda evolved to Team friendship. Gibbs in interrogation, and money becomes involved. 'Nuff said.


All Bets On

**A/N: So, I was thinking of some lighter stuff to write for my Tony/Tim friendship series, and I remembered how often they bicker over what interrogation style Gibbs will use (7.03, anyone?) and I figured that this fic will pay homage to that unique aspect of their relationship. Not really just a Tony/Tim bit anymore, but funny nonetheless. Grats to whoever guesses the song right first. Unless you're BBP. :)**

Tony narrowed his eyes, glaring at the younger agent who was at exactly eye level. "Tim McGee, how could you ever in a million years think that Gibbs would use the In Your Face technique on this chick? It would give her a heart attack!"

"I think that's the point, Tony," McGee returned. They both turned to look at the small woman, a tiny little blonde-haired woman. She quivered in her seat, staring around at the bare interrogation room.

"Not if she goes to Ducky's lab," Tony protested.

McGee squared off to Tony. "Fifty bucks says he starts off Father Figure and moves to In Your Face."

"I take that bet, you're gonna regret," Tony started singing, though he shut up at the look on Tim's face. "I'll add another fifty on that to prove you wrong. He will use Pin Up, then Tear and Toss. No question."

A sultry chuckle from the corner reminded them that Ziva was in the room. "You are both idioms. I will place an additional twenty dollars that Gibbs will use the Silent but Deadly approach."

"No, he would never," the two men said simultaneously, before Tony corrected her. "Idiot, by the way."

"Clamp up, Tony."

"Shut up," Tim corrected without thinking. Ziva glared and began to approach, but the interrogation room door opening and Gibbs storming in saved McGee's life.

"Petty Officer Stewart." Gibbs' voice was rough and low. "You have some explaining to do."

The young naval officer simply quivered in her seat, looking up at Gibbs with her dark blue eyes. "She is like a little bunny rabbit," Ziva commented offhandedly.

"Or a wet kitten," Tony amended as they watched Gibbs lean into the tiny woman.

Gibbs whispered something in Stewart's ear, something the group could not hear. He paused to let whatever it was sink in, before speaking in a louder tone. "And he's dead now, Stewart. Dead." Stewart flinched.

Approaching the mirror, Gibbs seemed to appraise the agents on the other side of the glass before smiling slightly and turning back to the table. He slapped the manila folder he had been holding down onto the table, making the tiny Petty Officer jump. Whipping out a photo of the first of the two victims, Gibbs held it up. "Tell me you know him."

"I… know him, he works with me in the lab sometimes, he uses the terminal next to me," she rushed.

"Worked. He's dead." Turning away from her startled face, Gibbs taped the ID photo of the victim to the glass. Tony glanced triumphantly between his two coworkers, who shot him snide looks.

Stewart shook her head vehemently. "Ryan… Ryan can't be dead."

"Ryan, huh? Seems like you knew him a little better than just as the guy who works with you."

"We were together, sir. He didn't want anyone to know…" Her voice cracked and broke.

"Do you know how he died, Stewart?" Gibbs turned away. He taped two more photographs to the glass, and the agents could see they were the crime scene photos of the body. "Shot in the head. Single gunshot wound. Bloody mess."

The Petty Officer squeaked in fear as her eyes lighted on the photos. "God!"

"Ryan Grossman was part of an Internet scam. Hacking the Pentagon. He died because of that." Gibbs took out another photo, one of the second victim- a John Doe. "Who is this?"

Stewart shook her head, eyes wide. "I don't know, sir, I've never seen him before. Is he… dead?"

Gibbs taped that and two other photos from the crime scene to the glass. "Yes."

Stewart winced at the bloody mess that was all that remained of John Doe. Sweat began to bead on the side of her face, and she avoided Gibbs' eyes when he turned to stare at her. "Is this chick capable of murder?" Tony asked, peering through the glass to examine the nervous woman.

"I would not think so, but she certainly knows something," Ziva responded, leaning in as well. Tim said nothing, just examined the Petty Officer closely.

Gibbs began pacing, circling the table and pausing at the end of each circuit to stand a moment behind Stewart. Sweat poured more openly now, and she reached a hand up at one point to wipe her forehead.

"HEY!" Gibbs finally yelled, slamming his hands on the desk as he leaned over her. McGee raised an eyebrow, glancing over at a just as surprised Tony and Ziva. "Two men are DEAD! And YOU know something ABOUT it! I need to know. NOW!"

Stewart drew in her breath sharply, jumping back. "I… Greg- Greg Thompson, I wasn't supposed to know him, Ryan met with him one night right before I came over, I heard them talking… he said Ryan would die if he didn't give over Greg's share of the money, he said he had a friend…"

"Who was the friend?" Gibbs asked quietly, sitting down.

"I don't know. He said something quieter, I couldn't catch it, I think it was a name… Mark? Maybe, ah, Mark Harrison? It sounded like that… But I don't know, I'm… not sure."

"Is he Greg?" Gibbs jerked his head back towards the John Doe on the glass.

"I, uh, I think so, I saw him for just a second before Ryan came out. He was so mad… he seemed upset about something, I don't know what though, except for maybe now it was that money you mentioned him scamming?"

"He never mentioned any money," Tony murmured, at the same time as Gibbs said, "I never mentioned any money, Petty Officer."

Stewart gulped, her eyes darting back and forth. "I didn't kill him. Or Greg."

"Here it comes," McGee whispered.

"The hell you didn't!" Gibbs roared.

"I didn't! I took the money. Harrison pulled the trigger. I would never hurt Ryan," she whimpered, tears starting to flow.

Gibbs slid a pad of paper and a pen across the table to Stewart. "Write it all down." Gibbs left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

"Cling on," Ziva protested. "Gibbs used Pin Up and In Your Face. What happens if we were all wrong?"

"Hang," Tony corrected.

"I'm not sure," Tim admitted. "You know more about that than I do, Tony."

"I suppose that we split it between us," Tony said, pulling out the money and beginning to count it out evenly. The greenbacks were snatched from his hand, and the three agents looked up in horror at their boss. "Boss," Tony exclaimed.

"Thanks. This'll pay for my date tonight," Gibbs said, flipping through the one hundred and twenty dollars. He looked up, grinning at his agents. At the wide-eyed expressions on their faces, he pointed out, "You didn't think my boats paid for themselves, did you? I'm broke!"

"That's amazing," Tony murmured as Gibbs walked back out of the observation booth.

"Gibbs on a date?" McGee asked.

"Gibbs on a date that costs more than twenty dollars," Ziva confirmed.


End file.
